


Keep Those Hands Quiet

by peculiarmars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, Autistic Draco Malfoy, Consultant Draco, Gen, Stimming, Vague references to child abuse, murder case, quiet hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 22:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12309171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peculiarmars/pseuds/peculiarmars
Summary: He can manage it much better than when he was a child, but he still has his slip ups. It's only his luck that Potter catches him.





	Keep Those Hands Quiet

  
It's because of the case.

 

  
A Muggle girl was killed by a wizard three weeks ago, and they hoped it was an isolated incident. A few days later another girl was found dead, and then another and another. All had been murdered with Avada Kedavra, leaving them staring vacantly at the sky. From the distance, they simply looked to be asleep.

 

  
The problem with Avada Kedavra is that when used, everything in your body simply. . . stops. There's no other way to explain it. If the murderer had used a different weapon, he could create a profile. But the Killing Curse allows the murderer to remain anonymous and undetected.

 

  
Technically, Draco wasn't actually an Auror. He was just a consultant. It seemed a fitting job after the war. After seeing so much death, why not see some more?

 

  
He hated it sometimes.

 

  
It makes it even more awkward because, of all people, he is working with Potter, of all people. He's also meant to be working with Weasley, except he's on sick leave.

 

  
It's not even that Potter is deliberately being unbearable, Draco knows that Potter doesn't even realise he is. Today is a bad day, and he wishes he had done a Weasley and called in sick.

 

  
Every little sound Potter makes feels like a knife is being driven through his skull. The scuffle of footsteps outside the office makes him cringe, and when Potter accidently brushes against him he has to withhold a flinch. He feel Potter staring at him, and ignores it the best he can. It's the worst day to be out around people and the _noises_ they make.

 

  
He stares at the board in front of him instead.

 

  
Erin Bucklehurst. Lily Hancock. Rosie Dellaware. Emily Carter.

 

  
All four girls have similar heights and weights, are roughly the same age and have the same colouring.

 

  
"Maybe someone's, I don't know, jealous of someone? They can't have the actual person so go after people who look like her. I mean, this is more your job than mine." Potter says it as if he isn't working his way up to the position of Head Auror.

 

  
Draco shrugs. "It's a plausible theory. A jealous lover, perhaps. Fixated on someone who they can't have, so takes the lives of similar girls. Though, they all seem too young to be lovers. It could be a father, who is attracted to his daughter but doesn't want to hurt _her_. . . Except, no, that wouldn't work-" He has almost forgotten Potter is in the room with him, and is talking completely to himself.

 

  
"- because there was no sign of sexual assault on the bodies, except grease. So in theory, it could be anyone, but statistically it's more likely to be a man. A man who knows a lot of children, all the girls came from different schools. And he must know the girls, they had no signs of struggle and hadn't been stupefied or petrified. So we need to search for a man who's in regular contact with all four schools the girls came from and is a wizard. Considering that none of the girls show any sign of magic, he's likely to be a muggleborn or possibly a half-blood." Draco finishes.

 

  
"What're you doing with your hands?" Potter asks suddenly, as if he hadn't heard Draco's deduction.

 

  
Draco stiffens at the question, his hands stopping their twitching and curling into fists at his sides. It's a question he hasn't been asked in years, a question he hasn't _needed_ to be asked in years. He quickly stuffs his fists into his jacket pockets and forces himself to stop the slight rocking his feet had been doing without his permission.

 

  
"It's nothing." He lies, pretending to be too busy scrutinising the girls' pictures to look Potter in the face.

 

  
He wasn't a _child_ anymore, for Salazar's sake. He had no real need of all his childish habits, and had been good at keeping them hidden during Hogwarts. They had come out again during the war, but who could blame him? Besides, his parents had more things to worry about than their son acting strange again.

 

  
Potter giving him that look, the one that makes Draco wish he had never come when Dawlish had asked him to, no matter how much he was needed. He liked working alone in the privacy of his cottage. He could have loud hands all he wanted and no one would tell him he was strange, or tell him that he needed to stop, and that it _was time for quiet hands, Draco_. It wasn't his fault, not really. He just got riled up sometimes and the energy had to come out some way. Most of the time he didn't even realise he was doing it.

 

  
"Oh, okay." Potter said, still giving him a strange look. "It's not that it's weird or anything, I was just wondering what you were doing, s'all."

 

  
"Well, don't." Draco snapped, making a mental list of the characteristics of the killer.

 

  
Focus on the case, worry about insignificant things later.

 

  
"I was just asking." Potter snapped back. Draco rolled his eyes, too tired for a full blown argument.

 

  
"And I was just telling you not to. Whether I have quiet hands or not has nothing to do with you." He heard his mistake as he said it. He hopes that Potter won't pick up on it, or that he'll just ignore it, but when has Potter ever done what Draco wanted?

 

  
"Quiet hands?"

 

  
Draco ignored him, chewing his lip. The killer was his main focus. Not Potter. Potter was completely irrelevant.

 

  
Potter huffed. "Fine. But I didn't mean you had to get defensive. It doesn't bother me."

 

  
And why would it bother Potter? Potter doesn't even know what quiet hands are. To Potter, it would just look odd. It wasn't as if Potter was about to make him sit on his hands until they went numb.

 

  
Draco didn't say anything for a minute.

 

  
"You're most likely looking for a man who has a basic job which allows him to enter schools without suspicion, such as a technician, which would explain the grease marks on the girls' bodies. Don't just look in Hogwarts records, he could have gone to Durmstrang or Beauxbetans. The age is hard to say, but I would say he was relatively young, someone who the girls could trust. Look especially hard if one of them has a daughter around the age of fifteen."

 

  
"A muggleborn man who works as a technician and has regular contact with schools, enough to be around the girls' long enough for them to trust him, and is relatively young. Got it." Harry scribbles down, the scratch of the pen making Draco pull a face before smoothing out his features.

 

  
His job is done, and he can finally go home and work on the case in private. He's halfway through the door when Potter's voice stops him.

 

  
"Hey, Malfoy." Draco turns to see Potter's hand held in front of him, a clear gesture of a truce. Draco stares at it.

 

  
"Friends?" Potter says.

 

  
After a moment of careful consideration, Draco takes his hand. "Friends." He agrees.

 

  
He leaves immediately after. For once, he doesn't feel the need to wipe his hands on his trousers to get rid of the tingling feeling.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some more autistic draco, and some with them being aurors, and this scenario was born at three am last night. I think I might turn this into a full length fic, but it would be a while if a did. Thanks for reading!


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